Extraordinary Again
by cruiscin lan
Summary: Hiro unwittingly crashes Claire's Christmas party, but she's happy to see a familiar face. Hiro/Claire.


Hiro Nakamura was a fortunate man in so many ways - he had an important position as the CEO of his late father's company, and an older sister capable and intelligent enough to run the company for him, for the most part. He was glad to have a friend like Ando, who stuck with him even during his most insane adventures. Hiro even had a nemesis who cared enough about him that she ran back through time to rescue him from the early nineties.

But Hiro was unlucky in love, so he was hesitant to act on it when it came to him again. The first woman he cared about was destined to die, despite his best efforts to the contrary; his feelings for the second woman he ever loved caused a rift in the space-time continuum, he was sure of it. He was afraid for the third woman he fell for, because even though she healed from every wound, that didn't mean she couldn't be hurt.

He couldn't even remember the first time they'd actually met - he was just a ten-year-old distracted by his Game Boy, and she was just a baby being pawned onto an unwilling father. The next time he'd heard of Claire Bennet had been through a cryptic message his future self had passed on to him via Peter Petrelli. The "cheerleader" - that's all he knew her as, until he'd read in _Ninth Wonders_ that he was destined to meet her again. They took a trip together backwards through time, so it was almost as though they had known each other for years.

A long time passed between their first meeting and their second. In his memory she was a cute teenage girl, someone who thought fast but acted faster, trying to be a hero, just as he was. But since then he'd had his power taken away from him, and he didn't feel like he could save the world anymore. He was just another overworked businessman, with ordinary problems like everyone else.

One December, he found himself in Manhattan on business, and thought he'd drop in on Peter, hoping to catch up. He found Peter's address in an old phonebook, and walked there from his hotel. His coat had collected a fine layer of snow by the time he got there. To his dismay, the door was opened by a few drunken college students, none of whom he recognized. He had unwittingly arrived at a party, celebrating the end of finals and the oncoming Christmas season.

"Peter Petrelli?" he asked. Even after a few more years of intensive English classes, his tongue still betrayed him as it stumbled over the _r_'s and _l_'s of Peter's name. The students looked at him blankly, but Hiro was saved from further embarrassment by a familiar face.

"Hiro Nakamura, right?"

She had appeared as though from thin air, smiling as she clutched a Solo cup. Her eyes were bright and her cheeks were red, from either too much alcohol or too much smiling - he couldn't tell which.

"Cheerleader," Hiro stuttered, his accent again shining through.

"It's Claire, actually," she told him, smiling. "Claire Bennet. It's been awhile since I've been a cheerleader."

He couldn't believe how much she had grown up in the few years since he'd last seen her. Her face lacked the innocence he knew she once had, but she still managed to find a small slice of happiness and obviously meant to enjoy it. She wasn't wearing a lot of makeup, but her hair flowed across her shoulders in loose curls. The dress she wore was hunter green and tight in all the right places, reminding Hiro even more that she wasn't a teenager anymore.

"It's good to see you, Hiro," she told him, setting down her cup to take his coat. He tried to protest for a moment, but she insisted that he stay for a while. She draped his coat across her arm and opened the closet, her nose crinkling in frustration. "Out of hangers," she explained, her voice barely audible over the punk-rock covers of Christmas carols. "I'll just put this in my bedroom." She grabbed her Solo cup and winded her way through a crown of people until she reached a closed door at the end of a hallway.

He followed her as she went to her room; he wanted to know where his coat was so he could cut and run as soon as possible. To his surprise, though, she held onto his coat and sat down on her bed, sinking down into the plush covers. "Come in," she beckoned. "It's so much quieter in here. Shut the door behind you."

Hiro, blushing a little, followed her instructions, sitting down on the bed beside her. He fidgeted nervously for a moment, adjusting his glasses and running a hand through his hair without knowing why.

"I'm glad you came, Hiro, I really am," Claire said. She was obviously tipsy, if not downright drunk, but she spoke with such earnestness that it made Hiro smile. "I mean, all those people out there - they're my friends, but they don't know me, really." She paused to take a sip of whatever vile-smelling beverage she was drinking. "I mean, they don't know what I can do. I feel like I can't ever be myself with any of them."

Hiro nodded solemnly. He'd always had someone he could confide in about his ability. Even though the ability was long gone now, he still had a friend he could count on, and he couldn't imagine what it would be like not to have anyone.

"I don't even know what I'm doing with myself. Angela Petrelli said she'd pay for college as long as I didn't try any more stunts, trying to be a hero." Claire stopped for a moment. "Hero. Hiro. That's you," she giggled, putting her hand on his shoulder. He suddenly became conscious of just how tight his tie felt around his neck, how hot it seemed in her room, and he adjusted his shirt collar restlessly.

As the party continued on without them, Claire talked whileHiro listened and they both lost track of time. He learned that she was an undergrad at Columbia, a senior who kept switching majors as though to buy more time before having to graduate. She poured her heart out to him about the stupid frat guy she had dated for a while, how strange it felt to go back to Costa Verde, the number of ways she had thought of to kill Sylar if she had ever been given the chance. She explained to him how she had moved into the apartment before Peter had fully moved out, and how he sometimes stopped by still. She told him everything about herself, about her fears, about her concerns for the future. In a way, Hiro felt extraordinary again, because Claire treated him like he was.

When she got up to refill her Solo cup, she found that her guests had disappeared, leaving behind only cheap vodka, a few mixers, and a huge mess. When she returned to her room with a drink for each of them, she found Hiro standing in the threshold, looking up at a sprig of leaves and berries she had taped to the lintel as part of her Christmas decorations.

"Mistletoe," she told him.

"Misser-tow?"

Claire laughed, tossing her head, her hair glowing as it caught the light from the Christmas tree decorations. "You know what mistletoe means, right? When you stand underneath it, someone has to kiss you."

Hiro looked up again, as though he thought a kiss would float down to him from the ceiling. Claire held a cup of vodka and cranberry juice in each hand, so she stood on her tiptoes and leaned forward, pressing her lips to his cheek. Hiro blushed fiercely, and he thrust his hands into his pockets, trying to keep Claire from noticing how thrilled he was just then.

She walked towards the bed and set the cups on the nightstand, her eyes locking with his as she turned back around. Slowly she sauntered back up to him, the clingy fabric of her dress catching around her hips and thighs as she moved. She took off his glasses, setting them gently on top of her dresser beside the doorway. Hiro was dismayed when the details of her face became blurry. "I can't see you anymore," he protested.

"Shhhh," she whispered. "Here," she said, taking his hands and putting them on her waist. "You don't need to see." With one hand she loosened his tie, while the other loosened his belt. Tenderly the pulled him back towards her bed.

"Are you sure...?" Hiro started, but Claire shushed him again, tilting her head upwards, standing on her toes so that she was close enough to him that he could see her face clearly again, even in the dimness of the room.

His heart fluttered as he continued to undress him. Slowly she undid the buttons of his shirt, slowly she slipped her fingers underneath the waistband on his slacks, slowly she breathed across his shoulders until the small hairs at the nape of his neck hair stood on end. He was surprised to find himself laying on his back, his pants pushed down around his thighs and his shirt open. Hiro choked back his nervousness as Claire stepped out of her panties and then straddled him. Hiro could barely see, but simply knowing she was naked underneath her dress as she climbed on top of him made him shudder like no other woman had ever done.

As she leaned forward he reached up and ran his fingers along the straps of her dress, taking them down one at a time. Her hair tumbled across her bare shoulders. As she bent down to kiss his neck, he fumbled first with the zipper down her back and then with the closure of her bra. Her clothing fell to her waist as she sat straight again, and Hiro put his hands on her hips to help her keep her balance as they rocked together, slowly at first but gathering speed until she couldn't stop herself from crying out. She pulled the straps of her dress back up to her shoulders and lay down beside Hiro, draping one arm lazily across his chest.

"Have you been to the past lately? Or the future?" Claire asked, her voice just barely above a whisper.

"I cannot do that anymore," Hiro admitted. He had been afraid to mention it; he didn't want Claire to think less of him because he was no longer special.

"It's probably better that way," she said dreamily. "Makes it easier to appreciate what's going on right now." She weaved the her fingers through his and squeezed his hand, and he could feel her eyelashes flutter against his skin.

Outside the light flurries had given way to rain, the kind of rain so cold it felt like it could cut through bare skin and chill all the way down to the bone. It drummed fiercely on the window, and Hiro wondered at the fact that only a thin sheet of glass kept them from being cold and wet and lonely.

Hiro fell in love quickly, and he fell in love hard, and while she slept soundly, her face pressed into his shoulder and her body curled into his, he hoped and prayed that, just this once, he'd be able to protect someone he loved, to keep her safe and make her his for more than just a little while.


End file.
